


"You could never have won."

by charlesworthy



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Character Death, Gen, give azelle the complex story and relationship with his brother he deserves, it's the battle of belhalla you know what's up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 15:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16349348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesworthy/pseuds/charlesworthy
Summary: After years, all of those under Sigurd's commands await with bated breath the opportunity to finally clear his name.  Azelle Velthomer is conflicted to see his older brother again.





	"You could never have won."

Not every one breathed a sigh of relief after meeting Aida in Velthomer. Lord Sigurd did, and so did the knights directly under his care. Lex did, beside Azelle. He offered a wide grin to his redheaded friend.

“Excited to see Arvis?” he asked sardonically.

“Maybe,” was the best answer Azelle could give in return. He was excited in that he hadn't seen his brother in almost two years now, and a lot had happened, including a pendant that signified he was married now. He was excited because he expected Arvis to yell at him. Two years was the longest he'd ever been away from his brother, and Arvis got moody after only two weeks. He was excited to hear Arvis' take on everything that had been happening in Grannvale, but he was anxious to hear everything else that would come with it.

Lex seemingly anticipated that answer. They didn't say much after that, mostly because they didn't need to. Lex's father had just died in the last battle, as did Tailtiu's, and Azelle didn't have a father to lose. Even if Lord Sigurd believed everything was about to finally be straightened out, Azelle's stomach was tight with tension.

Aida had insisted Sigurd's army go straight to Belhalla. Azelle would have liked to visit home first.

The procession was greeted with the Rotenritter, some of whom Azelle could recognize by their faces. They stood at attention, looking forward without seeing. He was familiar with the posture himself – he'd trained with them.

Both he and Lex were behind Sigurd by a fair amount, who took the lead and guided his horse towards where Azelle's brother, Lord Arvis, was waiting to receive them.

Suddenly, Azelle swung his head around.

He couldn't hear what Sigurd and Arvis were saying from his position, but the air... Each mage fighter in the Rotenritter was focusing. He could see the subtle tell of their hands on their tomes, held stiffly at their side, and he knew _intimately_ the heat in the air before the casting of a fire spell.

What was Arvis _doing_?!

Those around Azelle didn't seem to notice the change, but fire magic wasn't in their blood like it was him. He pulled on the reigns to his mare suddenly, urging her at a gallop towards the front of the procession.

“Azelle?!” Lex called after him.

He didn't have enough time to try to explain. Rather, he shouted only one word over his shoulder in response.

“RUN!!”

Those near enough to hear Azelle froze in place before responding by either running or drawing their weapons. The Rotenritter took it as their chance to begin the barrage.

There were no specific targets for the meteors they cast. They meant to kill the entire army, Azelle Velthomer included. He could hear a scream from one of the others as they were struck. He recognized the voice, but adrenaline kept him focused and he didn't match it to a name.

The heat in the air was intense, stifling and almost suffocating. More fireballs fell from the air, and more screams shook the air. All Azelle could hear was the beating of his own heart, heavy between his ears. Steering his mount through the crowd was difficult, compounded by the chaos of the firefight. Though a meteor did not hit him directly, it caught his horse in the flank, and the two of them tumbled to the ground by both the impact and their momentum.

Azelle had a split second to untangle himself from the stirrups before his horse fell and trapped his leg under her. He somehow managed this, but ended up rolling into the dirt nevertheless.

He heard another scream from beside him. The panic it instilled helped him spring back up to his feet. He could see Arvis _right there_ , Sigurd was just ahead of him –

“Arvis! You _dastard_!!”

The sky grew dark. Azelle drew his sword from its place on his hip and began surging forward.

A beacon of light, seemingly appearing from the heavens itself, shown down upon Sigurd alone. The heat in the air caused his form to shimmer, even this close up.

“No!!” Azelle shouted. He had to stop the spell – Valflame would _kill_ Sigurd!

A holy weapon in use was always a flashy show, magic especially. Azelle had seen Valflame several times before, mostly as a show to impress him as a child. The blood inside him goaded his response, tried to shape his emotions into something resembling euphoria. To feel that in conjunction with his panic, fear, adrenaline, and the simple fact that his _friends_ were dying all around him turned that feeling into nauseous disgust.

He could nearly feel his stomach climbing up his throat, but he swallowed desperately, readying his blade to at _least_ stay Arvis' hand.

He had to get his brother to call off the Rotenritter. He had to get Arvis to stop.

Fire, hotter than the sun, fell from the sky precisely on Sigurd. His cry of pain was deafening, and Azelle's stomach roiled with the conflicting feelings that followed.

His sword shone in the light Valflame cast, the light that just helped kill Lord Sigurd, as he struck Arvis directly in his forearm.

His brother's eyebrows raised. For the first time in Azelle's life, he saw Arvis' face carrying an expression of pure surprise. A thin line of Arvis' blood slid down the edge of Azelle's sword. He watched it drip to the ground.

Arvis swung his arm down, twisting in a clear disarm. Azelle's wrist curled backwards uncomfortably, but he kept his sword firmly between his shaking fingers.

He realized the world had turned dead silent. He didn't dare take his eyes off Arvis in fear of what that meant for his friends behind him.

Arvis gazed back at him. The surprise had fled from his face, and in its place was a cool, stern look, the same expression Arvis always carried.

“You raised a blade to me...” he murmured. If there had been a single other sound between here and Velthomer, Azelle wasn't certain he'd have heard his brother's voice.

“Why...” he choked out in response. “Why did... Y-you _killed_ him...”

Arvis' expression didn't change. He moved, carefully, and grabbed the wrist of Azelle's sword hand tightly, nearly painfully so. “Drop it,” he commanded.

Azelle held tight. “Why didn't you stop?! Lord Sigurd did nothing wrong, he just --”

“Drop. The blade.”

The duke's grip on his wrist tightened, and reflexes caused Azelle's to loosen. The sword fell uselessly between them.

A single fat tear rolled down the younger brother's cheek. Arvis let go of his wrist and he brought both hands to cover his mouth, trying to keep in the sobs that threatened the back of his throat.

Arvis set his hand on Azelle's shoulder, sturdy and affectionate. Already, Azelle could see the cut he'd greeted Arvis with had been completely healed by his brother's Recover Ring.

“Shh, it's alright,” Arvis said. “I'm proud of you for making it this far, but that's enough now.”

Azelle had no words. He couldn't speak through the burning in his chest, the tears, the anxiety, and the lingering nausea. Carefully, he turned to see what was left of Sigurd's army, but didn't get a good look before Arvis pulled him into a hug.

“Don't do that,” he said. Azelle couldn't protest.

Merely, the mage knight wept into his brother's shoulder. It could have easily been the only sound for miles, until Arvis eventually spoke:

“Welcome home, Azelle.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt by the-modern-typewriter (found [here](https://the-modern-typewriter.tumblr.com/post/159015287478/shh-its-alright-the-villain-said-youre)). I paraphrased the quote exactly because it wouldn't really work with how I'd written this, but it should be obvious where I inserted it.


End file.
